Betrayal by Gillian Shields Page A

earth with my bare hands.
    “Yes, here,” I said, panting. “Here, this is the place….”
    “Wait, Evie; Helen will be here soon,” Sarah urged. She moved closer to me and put her hand on my arm. “Did you see her just now? Did you see Agnes? Does she think we’re doing the right thing?”
    “I don’t know. I only know I have to dig here, in this corner….”
    Outside, one of the ponies neighed in alarm, and I thought I heard the sound of hoofbeats. I got up shakily and went out to see what was happening, hoping to see Helen. But it wasn’t her. I immediately tensed up, on the alert. This wasn’t supposed to happen right now.
    On the far side of a dip in the moors a couple of Wyldcliffe girls on horseback were talking to two other riders. The strangers weren’t wearing proper riding clothes, just sweaters and torn jeans. One of them looked like a young girl of about eight or nine on a shaggy pony. An older teenage boy, maybe her brother, was riding bareback on a piebald horse. He slithered down to the ground and stood protectively by the girl. He looked sullen, as though the conversation had turned into an argument. Sarah came and stood next to me as I watched them.
    “That looks like Celeste and India. I hope they don’t come poking around here.”
    “But who are they talking to?” I asked.
    “They might be local kids.” Sarah frowned. “Or maybe…Yes, Josh said that some families had arrived at the travelers’ camp on the other side of the village, that patch of waste ground beside the road. I think these two must be from there.”
    “You mean they’re…” I hesitated. “Travelers, you said. Do you mean Gypsies?”
    “I guess so. I’d love to talk to them if we get the chance one day.”
    Sarah was very proud of her Romany blood and kept a precious photograph of her long-ago ancestors next to herbed. But Celeste didn’t seem very friendly toward the two young strangers.
    Just then she spoke to them angrily and then jerked her horse’s head around and cantered away, followed by India on her leggy, nervous-looking chestnut. The boy shrugged and spoke to the girl, then jumped up on his own horse with amazing quickness and strength. They didn’t look anything like the romantic notions I had of Gypsies, but they seemed…I don’t know, tough somehow, part of the landscape, less groomed and polished than the Wyldcliffe students with their expensive gear, but more at ease. They began to move off.
    “Come on,” I said, “let’s get out of sight.” I pulled Sarah back into the ruined cottage. “We can’t waste any more time. If Helen has been held up, we’ll have to start without her.”
    I went back to the spot in the corner where I had been digging and tried to scrape away more of the earth. A few moments later, the air swirled and grew bright, and Helen seemed to step out in front of me, as if blown there like a leaf on the wind. I was getting used to her appearing from nowhere like that.
    “Are you okay?” Helen asked. “You look kind of upset.”
    “It’s nothing; don’t worry,” I said. “But there are other riders out on the hills. We think we’ve found the right place, but we mustn’t be seen.”
    “I’ve brought a spade and some other stuff,” she said, showing me the rough canvas bag she had slung over her shoulder. “I took it from the gardener’s shed. I’ll keep watch if you want to do the digging.”
    But I was still shaking too much to be of any real help. I had seen Agnes, here in this abandoned house, and I couldn’t brush off the sense that something bad was going to happen. The words I had heard her speak in the grotto came rushing back to me, and I felt sick and dizzy. Follow my way…they are coming….
    “I’ll do it if you like,” said Sarah. I nodded gratefully and tried to get my breath back as Sarah crouched on her knees in the corner and explored the ground. The old floorboards had rotted away, and she was feeling the bare earth as though